The upside of winter is on my feet

Oh, I could complain about the weather. It has, in fact, just about broken my resolve since the onslaught this year has focused on both fronts of my lengthy commute.

If the snow is not blowing in from the south, it falls in the north. Sometimes, it just carpet bombs the entire trek.

I could, if you wanted, name every last snake of black ice or wily farm field drift yet to be vanquished from the rural roads that connect my home to the office. Or I could describe the three times, so far, my car's rear almost sashayed into oncoming traffic.

Then there was the sunny morning I watched as a shiny red pickup pulled onto the highway to high-tail it up what appeared to be clear, dry pavement but was actually sheer black ice.

With no warning, the 2-ton steel vehicle began to pirouette like a deranged ballerina, violently slamming one guardrail and then the other until it came to a stop on the berm, the driver mercifully unhurt and no other vehicles involved.

But talking about that would be a bummer, and if you are like me, this winter, you need no more misery to contemplate.

Instead, I will focus on the upside of winter.

You thought I was going to say snowy owl watching.

I will concede the season's beauty. On a recent evening just outside Centerville, a fiery sunset somehow rendered acres of snow pink, blue and orange all at once. And generally, snow on any kind of evergreen tree somehow becomes less terrible.

But for me, true winter solace lies in my boots.

I tend to feel things deeply, or so my husband says. This weather, with its burning, breath-snatching cold, and rude, icy, windy, slushy inconveniences, feels personal and malevolent.

Nothing helps me withstand its slings and arrows better than my boots. They are black, frumpy and by this time of year, salt-stained. I found them online after years of searching and am on my second pair. Not surprisingly, they are made in Canada, where, clearly, they understand what is most important when confronting a heartless season over which one has no control: dry, warm feet.

If you dress correctly, I have learned, you can almost deny winter's very existence.

Think of a good coat, gloves and footwear as armor. Strap them on, close your eyes and click your heels; Erie might as well be Key West.

LISA THOMPSON can be reached at 870-1802. Send e-mail to lisa.thompson@timesnews.com. Follow her on Twitter at twitter.com/ETNthompson.